


and all at once

by kinpika



Series: BLUE [16]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, I can do this apparently, In about 2012, Pre-HB, They're being cute nerds and giggling about leap year birthdays, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 14:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “You fell off the couch to ask what I was doing?”Making a noncommittal noise, you idly rub at your elbow. “You’re being sneaky again.”“And you were spying on me.”Life's easy when you're a little in love.





	and all at once

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to ev, todd and sen on the discord server for the inspiration behind frog cakes and birthday cards

Feet kicked up on the arm of the chair, and you get a five second warning before you hear the, “Logan, really?” Slip them to the ground with a pronounced _thump_, and it’s not the first time you’ve questioned Ricardo’s abilities to see through walls. Pick at the fluff on the blanket, and lean around.

“What’re you doing back there?”

Silence, before the clatter of a pan meets your ears once more. A soft hiss of _fuck_, and you can’t quite see. Even as you grip the chair harder, holding yourself up until your arms ache. Just a little further, and you could see around the wall that separated kitchen from rest of the room.

Nope. You crash on the floor, hard, feel your elbow crunch in a way that wasn’t pleasant, and a “Logan?!”

You see him close, out the corner of your eye. A mild look of horror and amusement, as he bites down on his lip to stop smiling. Slowly, you untangle yourself, legs still hooked over the chair, and you can only go, “whatcha doin’?”

“You fell off the couch to _ask_ what I was doing?”

Making a noncommittal noise, you idly rub at your elbow. “You’re being sneaky again.”

“And you were spying on me.”

Ricardo crouches down, apparently deciding to bring the conversation to you. So you reach out, hand on his knee, thumb finding that one spot you know hurts more than it should. “I might’ve been. What are you gonna do about it?”

Bringing him down for a kiss, you close the distance with a grin, finding that little dimple, right there. Hold onto him, to keep yourself upright, and if it wasn’t for the bad angle, you know this could’ve worked. Maybe. No, you have to drag him down to the ground with you, in between armchair and couch. Pull your legs around and settle yourself comfortably just there.

He huffs, hair flying up, and you trace the newest scar along his chin with the tip of your finger. It would be gone in a week. A little too deep for the makeup artists to be happy with. Ricardo stops you then, bringing your hand to his lips. Teeth nibble along your skin, and you can’t help the satisfied grin you know spreads across your lips.

Until he pulls away, leaning heavily on the chairs to pull himself up. “Wait, hold on—”

“Ten more minutes, carino. And then, I suppose, you can kiss me.”

Scoff and Ricardo doesn’t even offer you a hand as he practically saunters away. Laughter follows him to the kitchen, and you’re left with clambering up onto the couch this time, remote in hand. Flicking through about four different cooking channels and six different renovation ones, until there’s an old black and white you think you remember. Can’t put your finger on where.

Let yourself be wrapped up in it, the static of Ricardo’s mind a hum that you lean into. Soft and happy and he’s humming as he finishes up. On screen, the couple twirls, and you. Smile. Imagine something like that.

You hadn’t realised how you’d been caught up, in proclamations of love and devotion, until the back of the couch dips behind you. Fingers tip your chin up, and Ricardo kisses along your jaw. “Sit at the table, please.” Another kiss, open mouthed, as you turn into him.

“Are you sure?” _Right now? _You could pull him over the couch, definitely. Done it before.

Happily do it again. Maybe he had the same idea, with how you’ve twisted around, knees on the couch, wrapping your arms around him.

“Logan…”

“Mmm?”

Ricardo tugs your lower lip. “Come on.”

You don’t hesitate to grumble, as you pull back. Squint as you search his face, notice the flush high on his cheeks. But his kiss is sweet, and you let him pull you up. Step up and over the couch, drop beside him. “Can’t tempt you for one more—“

“Come on! Come on, come on, come on!” And Ricardo pushes your shoulders towards the table, sitting you down with a nudge.

Even as you drag your feet, you can’t. _Not_. Just how he seems to float a little, eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins, and you are settled into a chair, tucked in right to the edge. Watch how his hands hover and a double check over his shoulder before there’s a, “wait here."

Not that you were planning on moving. Staying very still, at the table as requested, you rest your chin in your hand. Ricardo holds his hands up once, as if to make sure, before ducking back into the kitchen. Another clang, a light swear, before soft footfalls quickly arrive. Lights dimming as he goes, and out the corner of your eye, you see the candlelight.

A cake. Not too big, but decorated in varying candles of all shapes and sizes. What makes you cover your face as you smile, was the big ‘6’ in the middle, almost falling over, with two smaller ones either side. Haphazardly burning, and it’s set down before you. Placing his hands on his hips, Ricardo looked remarkably pleased with himself and you just,

Laugh. So hard that you have to cover the snort, trying to slip down in your chair. “W-wh—” Can’t get the words out. Can’t even think, really, as he whips out his phone.

“Come on. On three.”

“Are you going to sing?!” And you barely get your sentence out, when he starts. The loudest, most obnoxious version you had heard to date, but your sides hurt and you wheeze.

“Hip-hip!”

“Oh, for fu—_Ricardo_!”

“Blow the candles out already!”

It’s. You’re both giggling, as you can’t quite get enough air out, let alone in. And he’s no help, damn near doubled over and giggling into the camera, until you splutter out enough to get the flames out.

You don’t know when it became a race to see who could pull all the candles off first. Or when he decides to dip his finger in the icing and poke you on the nose. Too much. Not enough. Arm around him as Ricardo gives up on cutting the cake, a quick murmur to never tell his mother about this, and takes a handful instead.

Don’t understand how something so small had so many candles, covering the table now in blobs of wax and icing. And you hurt, all over, as he stumbles from the chair with a shout of: “shit, fuck, I forgot!” You’re going to go sideways. Cheek pressed against the wood, trying not to smile. Watching him walk back in.

With a wave, and a _tada_ that was influenced by all kinds of sugar highs, you are given a little pile. And, you have to sit up. Place a hand over your chest. Tears had already been running down your face, laughing too hard, but this was. Something else. A different kind of burn, corners of your eyes. Far too warm and far too soft.

Turning the first card over, you don’t quite know what to make of it. You smile, of course you do, when you see a great big black line drawn through the ‘on the baby girl’, replaced with ‘on being six’. Anathema haphazardly had signed inside, alongside at least ten other names you recognise.

“Themmy said you’d like something like that,” Ricardo laughs, before handing you another card. Bright pink with a doll on the front you vaguely recognised, but it’s the pin that stands out.

Has you shake from giggles, as he easily puts it on your chest. “Glows in the dark, too.”

Of course it did. Pinch his chin with thumb and forefinger, bringing him in for a kiss that was buttercream and strawberries. A little like love. Maybe.

Could you admit that?

But it’s the little package that has you pause. Smart bow, and Ricardo is hovering, watching, as you carefully pull at the string. Wrapping paper unfolding in your hand, and there’s a little sewn—

“Frog?”

Pudgy and green, it was remarkably cute. But the reference was lost on you, and when you turn to look at up him, Ricardo was more than amused. Dramatic pause, as he breathes out, “Because they… _leap_.”

Wiggles his fingers for emphasis. You bark out a laugh, toss out an elbow, but you don’t let go. Not even as there’s a _voila, _another smaller button, just for good measure. Affixed to the frog as well. You match. You kiss him.

You laugh and laugh and laugh.


End file.
